White Sheets Cover Ebony Skies
by Kanefan123
Summary: Once again not really a book crossover... About a child born into the KKK and his realization... Based on Romeo's Distress by Chrisitan Death


When you really think about perfection, something that probably doesn't enter your mind is death. My best guess about this is because so many people in this day and time are afraid of death. What it really comes down to though is that Death is the only force that doesn't hurt you because of the way you are. It cannot be bargained with, it cannot be avoided, and it doesn't care who you are or what the consequences will be.  
Only in death have I realized the errors of my ways. All that I had been blindly preaching about was not only a lie but hurtful to many people around me. Looking back on my entire life, and my death, maybe I deserved what I got in the end.  
I guess I never really understood what I got into until this year. This was the year that I started to question my parents' beliefs. This stage happens in the teenage years when children begin think for themselves and start to understand the power of reason. I hear that everyone goes through a stage like that.   
I was at another gathering that my family went to which the called a "meeting." I think that I hated these meetings because I never understood what they did. All I understood was that my dad would always get up in front of the a whole bunch of people in town dressed in white robes and scream about something called "White Power." He said it had something to do with how I'm a perfect child because I'm "Light as powder," but that family up the street from us, who were recently freed, was "dark as the shit on the ground." I grew up hearing that and just had to assume he knew what he was talking about, I mean why would my father lie to me?  
My father took the podium and everyone stood attentive.  
"…And how is everyone today? My name is Grand Dragon, and I will be conducting the mass today. When I look around to all my people do you know what I see? I see a sea of beauty. All of you have draped yourselves in the beautiful color of white. I think we all know why we're here. Because those people get jobs, and work as if they are our equals. This must be stopped! We are clearly superior and have always been. The only way to run a perfect society is to eliminate them…"  
He went on for a bit but I stopped listening. I thought about what he had just said. Beautiful color of white? It was at that point that it hit me. My father wasn't referring to the color we wore; he was talking about the color of our skin.   
After he got off the podium everyone clapped and chanted "White power, White power!" I followed him to the tent where he was changing.  
"Hey son. Did you like daddy's speech?" He asked after noticing that I had been standing in the opening to the tent.  
"Well I didn't really understand it. I mean what were you trying to tell everyone," I asked, still standing in the opening of the tent.  
"Son I'm trying to say that these people have too many rights..."  
"How do they?"  
"Well for one thing they're free. They're inferior to us as white men and should be considered as such," he said casually slipping his robe off.  
"But why?"  
"Well… we have dominated this earth since the dawn of time and that's how it should be; perfect," He managed to blither out getting increasingly mad.  
"But that still doesn't answer my question."  
Father finally stormed over to me and struck me hard with his backhand.   
"I didn't raise you to question me like this," he bellowed. "I am your father and you should know that what I say goes, without question," Scared and whimpering from the blow I could only lie on the ground and stare up at him with wide eyes. He kneeled down and outstretched his hand. It was white from the pressure of the blow.  
"NO," I shrieked scurrying towards the exit.  
"Son, don't scream, I'm not going to hit you again," he crept closer, and grew angrier as he did, "Quit your whining boy, you'll appreciate what I'm doing later. I'm doing what I know is right so that you realize how superior we are to those… those… those dogs," I sprung to my feet and ran from the tent.   
I didn't have anywhere to go so I fled to the woods. I ran as quickly as I could because I knew he would be coming.   
I ran for what felt like an eternity until finally I collapsed to my knees on the ground. The leaves were wet because it had just rained that morning.  
"What'cha doin thar," a sweet sounding voice called.  
"Who are you?"  
"Little old me? My name's Emily. You?"  
"Allan. Nice to meet you," I said picking myself up off the ground. I tried to see her but the trees covered up most of the moonlight, so that all I could see was her dark outline. The only qualities about her that I could manage to see were her eyes. They were oh so beautiful. They were an odd shade, they were black and yet they seemed to glow in the darkness.   
"So, like I said before, what 'cha doing down here anyways," she asked in a soft, inquisitive tone.  
"Me? Oh well I was at this meeting and I talked to my dad about it and he hit me. I was so afraid that I ran into these woods," I managed to choke out, still lost in her ebony glare.  
"Why'd he hit you? Was ya doing something wrong?"  
"Something like that. I did something that was right, but he thinks that it was wrong," I said to her. She tilted her head to the side and gave me a look of sheer confusion.  
"You sure are one confusin' boy, but you know what I think I can help ya."  
"Really?"  
"Yeah, I'll ask my daddy if you can stay with us. I'll explain everything to him. He's a sucker for a "doing what you feel is right story," she said clasping my hand.  
There was a faint crackling noise that I never really paid attention to until now. I wasn't quite sure what it was. I just assumed that it was they were bugs fluttering n the distance.   
"So do you feel that therer is only 1 perfect type of person," I asked abruptly.  
"Wow, I guess I never thought about that. I don't really know. I mean I guess some folk really don't like other people because of the way they're born, but when it all ends, what's really perfect? So I guess I'd say nothing is perfect… except the end."   
"Yeah. My dad makes rules against people just because of the way their skin color is. He tells a whole bunch of people that because they are a certain way they are better," I said in disgust.  
"Gee, our dad's would sure love each other. I mean my dad does like to help out a guy in need and all, but I mean there've been people who roughed him up a bit and ran. They was cowards," suddenly there was a rustle in the distance. Following the rustle was an incredibly deep voice that yelled,  
"Emily! Emily, where are you? I told you it wasn't a good idea to play in the woods so late at night on nights like this!"  
Emily jumped up and turned, "That's my dad," she exclaimed, "come on, I'll explain the story to my dad and he'll be sure to let you spend some time with us."   
She lifted me off the ground and we ran toward the end of the woods; the eerie crackling got louder and louder as we ran. I still couldn't figure out what it was. I looked ahead and saw the dark silhouette of man with a shotgun standing in front of a shack.  
"Emily!"  
"Coming daddy!"  
"Thank God you're alive!"  
"Daddy, I found someone and he's in a whole mess a' trouble!"  
The crackling grew louder still as we grew closer to the large silhouette. I ran as fast as I could to get to shelter from my father. As we flew out of the path from the woods and into the lawn Emily's house I looked to my right to find out where the ominous crackling came from.   
"A burning cross," I shrieked; the light from the cross showed me who I had been talking to. Emily wasn't a silhouette anymore and neither was her father.  
It was at that point that I realized she had never said what color her skin was.   
"You're white," she yelled.  
I had just assumed she was white. I mean it all made sense, her family felt that one race was better than another, their family had terrible injustice upon them by another race…  
"Racist bastard," his father screamed as he raised his shotgun and fired.  
"NO," Emily wailed, "daddy he was my friend!"  
I guess it never occurred to me that the feelings of hatred for some former slaves from the white man were mutual.  
After I fell to the ground Emily ran to me and put her arms around me and looked deep into my eyes. Her face was comforting especially her big black eyes. I knew that this had to be done. This was the only possible way to make my life… perfect. 


End file.
